Ms Georgia
by LemonStar
Summary: ..Daryl/Beth.. AU - no zombies. One-shot. She's beautiful. Long blonde hair. Big blue eyes. Pale skin. Petite body. He wishes he had turned around sooner. And there's a white sash worn across her chest: MS. GEORGIA.


**I don't think it's a secret that I have really been struggling with writing these two lately. My inspiration has been at rock bottom and while I love them so much, still, I just haven't felt that motivation to write them every day as I have been in the past and I don't want to force myself to write something if the passion isn't there. That's not good for anyone. This idea popped into my head - so random and I still have no idea what the hell this is - but I was actually able to get it from my brain onto paper and that makes me so happy.**

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…

"Excuse me, sir?" Someone taps him on the shoulder and Daryl turns to see who it is. "Do you mind taking our picture?" A middle-aged woman asks, holding her phone out to him.

Daryl finally gets a look at the woman who has been standing behind him in line. He's been aware of her for the past two minutes, listening as she has sang softly along with the Beach Boys song playing over the fairground speakers. He had been wanting to look, but he has refrained from looking at her; trying to steal glances at her from over his shoulder.

But now, he sees her and for a second, he feels completely frozen.

She's beautiful.

Long blonde hair. Big blue eyes. Pale skin. Petite body. He wishes he had turned around sooner.

And there's a white sash worn across her chest: MS. GEORGIA.

Daryl stares at the sash and then slowly, his eyes move back to her face. She watches him staring at her and her lips quirk into a small smile.

"Do you mind?" She asks him now.

That snaps him out of it. "Nah. 'course not," he manages to say, his voice too rough-sounding and he clears his throat as he takes the phone from the lady and she, with her two young children, stand with Ms. Georgia, smiling excitedly.

He snaps a couple and then hands the phone back to lady to see if they're good enough.

The lady beams back to Ms. Georgia.

"We can't wait to watch you next month. We have no doubt that you're going to win," she assures the woman who's clearly a beauty queen.

 _A title that's deserved_ , Daryl thinks to himself, seeing the young woman smile warmly and blush faintly at the other lady's praise.

"Thank you so much," the beauty says graciously. "I hope you're right. We'll just have to see."

After well-wishes and hopes that they enjoy the rest of the State Fair, the lady and her two kids leave and it's just Daryl standing with Ms. Georgia. She now turns that warm smile of hers onto him; that _true_ smile.

Daryl's not too used to women who look like her, smiling at him like that, and not instantly frowning at the sight of him and looking as if they just scraped him off their shoes.

"Thank you for that," she says at him and she never stops smiling. "Hopefully, you won't have to do that again while we're standing here."

"I don't mind," Daryl shrugs truthfully.

"I'm Beth," she says and holds out her hand.

Daryl nearly takes it before he stops himself suddenly. He drops his hand again. "Daryl," he says and he watches as she slowly pulls her hand back, her smile fading slightly, confusion obvious. "I can't 'member the last time I washed my hands," he tells her though he really doesn't want to tell her _that_. "Been with my pigs all day," he feels the need to add.

Beth's beaming smile returns at that. "You have pigs here?" She asks and Daryl's almost sure that she sounds pretty excited at that.

He gives a nod. "Got my sow here with me these couple of weeks and her latest litter."

"Piglets?" Beth nearly gasps at that and Daryl gives the tiniest smile and another nod.

"Piglets," he confirms.

"Has she won anything?" Beth asks and they realize the line has finally moved and they shuffle forward.

He notices that Beth has come to stand beside him and Daryl wonders if she even realizes it herself.

Daryl shakes his head. "I usually show her, but wanted to give her this year off since she just gave birth. Been showin' the piglets though. They've won a couple of things. Already sold a couple, too. Would 'ave brought my main boar up with me to show, but he's kind of a dick when around too many people."

He instantly cringes at saying that around this woman, but he hears her giggle at that and he looks at her, seeing that she's smiling at him. Daryl smiles a little at her, too.

"What's next month?" He then asks, remembering what that lady had said to her before leaving.

"Oh," Beth says and her cheeks blush again and she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. "Um, the Miss America pageant is next month."

For the second time in just a few minutes, Daryl feels himself completely freeze.

He stares at her for a moment and then visibly swallows. "You're competin' in Miss America?"

Why the hell is this woman standing here and talking with him?

She nods and her eyes move away from him; almost as if she's embarrassed about it.

"I don't stand a chance, but we'll see how it goes," Beth shrugs and Daryl begins to frown at that.

"Why don't you stand a chance?" He asks. "Must be pretty good if you've been made Ms. Georgia."

"I'm just not what they usually look for in Miss America," Beth explains – which isn't much of an explanation in Daryl's opinion. "It's amazing I've made it this far without much of a chest."

Daryl does his best to make sure his eyes _don't_ drift down past her chin, but he feels his ears turn red nonetheless. He clears his throat and Beth turns her head forward, but not before he misses the smile that is teasing the corners of her mouth.

"There's more to bein' Miss America than that, ain't there?" Daryl asks.

"So they say," Beth smiles.

It's his turn now and Daryl steps up to the food truck window while pulling his wallet out. "A corndog and a Coke." He looks to Beth. "My treat," he then offers.

"Oh, no, Daryl, I couldn't let you do that," Beth immediately shakes her head in refusal and Daryl's not surprised by that.

"Ms. Georgia, you don't pay here," the man in the truck says, leaning forward a little so he can smile at her through the window and Beth smiles graciously at him.

"Thank you," she tells the man. "I might put you out of business though. I'm starved."

The man grins before looking back to Daryl. "And anyone who's with Ms. Georgia doesn't pay either."

Daryl instantly opens his mouth to refuse the offer – Daryl Dixon pays for Daryl Dixon – but a soft elbow jabs into his side then and he turns his head, looking down to Beth, but she's still smiling sweetly at the man before she proceeds to order a corndog, a frozen lemonade and a bag of cotton candy.

Beth thanks the man a few more times they collect their food and then step out of line.

"I've learned that it's just easier to accept rather than refuse when they make offers like that. You refuse and they never let up," Beth tells him. "I'm still not used to it," she then admits.

Daryl doesn't know what to say to that. He's pretty sure no one in his whole life has given him something for free. He watches her trying to get everything in her hands organized before he takes it upon himself to help. Without a word, he turns and sets his Coke down and holds the corndog in his mouth before taking her bag of cotton candy from her hand and tying it to his belt loop.

"Well, now you've done it," Beth says with a slight laugh in her tone. "You're stuck me now. I go where the cotton candy goes."

Daryl smiles at her. "'m not complainin'," he is able to say without blushing – too much – and he sees Beth with her own blush staining her cheeks. "I'm goin' this way," he cocks his head to the side.

"I guess I am, too," she smiles.

And with that, they begin walking through the crowds of people, heading back towards the Pig Pavilion.

"So, you one of those _Toddlers and Tiaras_ girls?" Daryl hears himself ask before he can stop himself.

Beth bursts out with laughter at that and he smiles at the sound.

"No," she quickly shakes her head. "You're not the first to ask, but definitely no. I actually got a late start in pageants compared to most girls. And even then, I only signed up for pageants that had a talent portion."

"Wha' is your talent?"

"I play piano and I sing," Beth answers with a smile.

Looking at her, that seems like the perfect talent and seems to fit her perfectly, but Daryl keeps it to himself and just keeps looking at her, waiting for her to continue.

"My parents weren't too sure about it, but I wanted to perform for people and with a lot of the pageants, in their different categories, if you win top prize in a category, you win money."

"Never understood that," Daryl admits. "People spendin' thousands of dollars on one pageant for a prize of five-hundred bucks, if that." He realizes what he's just said and he swallows. "'m sorry. I didn' mean-"

"No," Beth gives him a warm smile as she shakes her head. "You're absolutely right. It _is_ very backwards. The horror stories of stage parents that I could tell you…" she trails off and shudders and Daryl smirks. "But I was able to find glitz gowns at second-hand stores and my mom, thank goodness, is a wiz with a needle and thread and the most I ever spent was on my hair."

"You wear one of those flipper things?" He asks and he hopes she doesn't ask how he knows about those.

He doesn't want to admit to her that sometimes, he's been pulled into a _Toddlers and Tiaras_ marathon on television more than once.

"My teeth are perfect, Daryl," Beth informs him and then flashes him a wide smile that shows him those perfect teeth of hers and Daryl finds himself smiling widely, too, in response, almost laughing. "And what about you? How does one become a pig farmer?"

Daryl shrugs and takes a moment to swallow his sip of Coke. "Needed a job and got one on a farm. They had all kinds of livestock, but I took a shinin' to the pigs. Learned everything I could from the man who owned the place. Then I decided I would start savin' up my money to buy my own first boar and sow. Didn' really know what to do or was good at anythin' in particular so I figured it was somethin' to do."

"And you're good at it," Beth states as if she has any idea.

Daryl can't help, but smile a little. "I do okay," he replies with a modest shrug.

They have both finished their corndogs by the time they reach the grand brick building that the pigs are housed in. People are streaming in and out and Daryl finishes his Coke in a few chugs before tossing it into the nearby trashcan. He doesn't look to see if Beth's following after him. He knows she is. He still has her cotton candy, but also, he had seen the way her eyes had lit up when he had said 'piglets'.

And sure enough, when he steps into the building, Beth is right at his side.

"Do you sleep with your pigs?" She asks.

"Most nights. I got my trailer set up with the others, but I don't like bein' too far away from her," Daryl admits and then his hand shoots up, cupping her elbow, stopping her before she can walk into a pile of shit right in their path.

Beth gives him a smile and then hops over it. "My daddy has a farm," she tells him. "Cows. I'm used to watching where I step."

Daryl feels his stomach do some sort of flip at that, but he doesn't know what the hell it is so he just decides to ignore it. Something about seeing a beautiful girl wearing a beauty queen sash, jumping over pig shit. It's one of the most incredible things Daryl has ever seen.

He shakes his head though. Ms. America and a pig farmer? He nearly snorts at just the idea.

Daryl leads them and stops them at a pen near the back end of the building. Beth lets out a giggle and Daryl turns to look at her curiously. She points to the sign that has his and his sow's information on it.

"I love her name. Maggie's my sister's name," Beth says with another giggle and Daryl nearly grins at that.

"Well, here she is," Daryl says and Beth steps right up to the pen to see Maggie sprawled on her side, some of the litter feasting on her nipples while others are napping and a few others are rolling in the dirt.

"She's beautiful," Beth breathes. "What kind is she?"

"English Large White or a Yorkshire," he shrugs. "Either works."

True to her name, Maggie is big, white-skinned with erect ears and a dished face. He agrees. Maggie's beautiful and along with Duke back home, his main boar for breeding, they're his pride and joys.

"Do you kill the runts?" Beth asks curiously, her eyes following one of the piglets as the little thing has a burst of energy and begins running around the pen.

"Nah. I know plenty of other farmers that do, but I jus' can't. Not their fault for bein' born small," Daryl says. He unlatches the pen's gate and carefully steps in.

He picks up the piglet that is running around, the piglet letting out a little squeal before it recognizes Daryl's hold and almost immediately calms down again.

"Aw, look at you," Beth coos as Daryl brings the piglet to her and she strokes her fingers over the little one's head. "Do you name them?" She lifts her eyes to Daryl's.

"Just the runts, if I wind up keepin' 'em. I don't name any of the other ones. Seems weird to be namin' 'em and then sellin' em to slaughterhouses. But if I decide to keep a runt, then yeah. I'll name 'em."

"And how do you decide to keep a runt?"

"I advertise online that I'm sellin' em. Some people are like me and jus' like havin' the runts 'round. And if I don't get anyone interested in buyin', then they'll stay with me," Daryl answers.

Beth smiles at that. "Can I hold him?" She asks.

Daryl begins to extend his arms and the piglet towards her, but then he stops. "Is it alright to keep wearin' your sash?" He wonders.

"Probably not," she agrees and then pauses to remove it carefully, folding it gently over the pen's railing, and then with a smile, she holds her arms out.

Daryl passes the piglet from his arms to hers, his fingers brushing along the bare skin of her arms and he swears he can feel her shiver, but he knows he's probably just imagining it because despite the heat of the building that afternoon, _he_ feels like shivering.

"And this one's the runt?" Beth asks as she cradles the piglet as gently as a newborn baby. Daryl nods in confirmation. "Have you named this one yet or are you selling him?"

Daryl looks at her for a moment. "You tell me."

Beth's eyes fly up to his.

"When's the Miss America pageant?" He asks.

"Next month in Atlantic City," Beth answers, still looking at him and just him.

"He'll be ready to leave Maggie in another month. How 'bout…" he pauses and he wonders if he's about to make the biggest idiot of himself. He decides to just push on. He's Daryl Dixon and he's not afraid of anything. "How 'bout I give you my address and when you get back from bein' crowned Miss America, you come and tell me what you wanna name your new piglet?"

He pauses.

"If you don't mind seein' me again," he adds, unsure.

She's just met him. What makes him think that she wants to have his address or have any further contact with him?

She's Ms. Georgia, for fuck's sake, and if those judges up in Atlantic City have working eyeballs in their sockets, she'll be Miss America, too, soon enough. She won't even remember ever meeting him in a month's time.

Beth bursts into a smile though in that instant and in that instant, Daryl forgets all of his previous thoughts.

"I was trying to think of how I was going to ask to see you again," she admits, her cheeks flushed, and Daryl smiles at that, feeling his own cheeks flush.

…

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 **Thank you so much for reading!**


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